*Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater

Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,

Had a wife but couldn't keep her;

He put her in a pumpkin shell

And there he kept her very well.

Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,

Had another and didn't love her;

Peter learned to read and spell,

And then he loved her very well.

*Mary had a little lamb

 the teacher did reply.

*Peter Piper Pick

Where's the peck of pickled peppers that Peter Piper picked?

*Jack and Jill went up the hill

And Jill came tumbling after.

With vinegar and brown paper.

With vinegar and brown paper.

For laughing at Jack's disaster.

For causing Jack's disaster.

*There is an old woman who lived in the shoe

Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

She whipp'd all their bums, and sent them to bed.

and sent them to bed.

*Little Bo Peep loves her sheep

*Georgie Porgie

Georgie Porgie ran away. 

*Wee Willie Winkie

Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toon,

Up stairs an' doon stairs in his nicht-gown,

Tirlin' at the window, crying at the lock,

"Are the weans in their bed, for it's now ten o'clock?"

"Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben?

The cat's singin grey thrums to the sleepin hen,

The dog's speldert on the floor and disna gie a cheep,

But here's a waukrife laddie, that wunna fa' asleep."

Onything but sleep, you rogue, glow'ring like the moon,

Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon,

Rumblin', tumblin' roon about, crawin' like a cock,

Skirlin like a kenna-what, waukenin' sleepin' fock.

"Hey Willie Winkie, the wean's in a creel,

Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee like a verra eel,

Ruggin' at the cat's lug and raveling a' her thrums-

Hey Willie Winkie – see there he comes."

Wearit is the mither that has a stoorie wean,

A wee, stumpie, stousie, that canna rin his lane,

That has a battle aye wi' sleep afore he'll close an e'e-

But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.

Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,

Up stairs and down stairs in his night-gown,

Tapping at the window, crying at the lock,

Are the children in their bed, for it's past ten o'clock?

Hey, Willie Winkie, are you coming in?

The cat is singing purring sounds to the sleeping hen,

The dog's spread out on the floor, and doesn't give a cheep,

But here's a wakeful little boy who will not fall asleep!

Anything but sleep, you rogue! glowering like the moon,'

Rattling in an iron jug with an iron spoon,

Rumbling, tumbling round about, crowing like a cock,

Shrieking like I don't know what, waking sleeping folk.

Hey, Willie Winkie – the child's in a creel!

Wriggling from everyone's knee like an eel,

Tugging at the cat's ear, and confusing all her thrums

Hey, Willie Winkie – see, there he comes!"

Weary is the mother who has a dusty child,

A small short little child, who can't run on his own,

Who always has a battle with sleep before he'll close an eye

But a kiss from his rosy lips gives strength anew to me.